The Blood of A Virgin
by Devilzzz
Summary: "The blood of a virgin is the blood of the world..."
1. Part I

**The Blood of A Virgin  
----------------------------**_  
  
  
**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.**_  
**_Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?_**  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
"When did it start?"  
  
"When I was thirteen, I got my first sense. I didn't act on it until I was fifteen."  
  
"Ah. When do you feel this particular emotion, Draco?" the doctor's voice was dead-prone as he scribble furiously on the small notepad.  
  
"Everyday. I can sense when one is near - it makes me feel as if I am a monster or somewhat."  
  
"This school that you go to...?"  
  
"Hogwarts, sir."  
  
"Yes, yes. Very well. And do you sense anything there, Draco?" the doctor asked.  
  
"I can't sense very much since there are so many...so many...but sometimes when I am close to one I feel as if I am about to go crazy..."   
  
"How does it feel, Draco? How does it feel?" the doctor's voice urged him forward.  
  
"It feels hideous, sir. But how can I know? I barely remember the next morning."  
  
***  
  
"Please give a fair welcome to Ginny Weasley to our class. Miss Weasley has been working exceptionally hard on her Transfiguration, and we welcome her to the higher level because she is a very special student," Professor McGongall said with pride.  
  
Ginny flushed as the clattered clapping reached her ears; Harry and Ron were grinning, and Hermione was nodding her head approvingly.  
  
"The only seat left is next to Mr. Malfoy. However, you may sit where you wish next class," Professor McGongall added, noting the horrified look on her face.  
  
Restraining a sigh, she walked numbly to the Slytherin's side of the room and sat down next to him without a word, avoiding his eyes.  
  
"Now, please all begin with working with your partners on page 345, where we are working on advancing our skills and turning solid objects into animal form."  
  
They all obeyed, and Ginny hurriedly opened her book, glancing at Draco at the corner of her eye. They did not speak, but merely followed the instructions silently.  
  
Suddenly, Draco looked at Ginny with wide eyes. He had a look of discovery; it frightened her greatly.  
  
"What?" she asked nervously.  
  
"Your...nothing," he said quickly, looking away. Ginny tried to ignore this moment and grew more interested in her book...  
  
***  
  
"I can always sense it. I don't know how."  
  
"Care to describe this a bit better?"  
  
"Like when I am near one, I can just smell it, like a vampire or somewhat. There's this ringing in my ears and I feel the need to..."  
  
"Act? When was the last time you acted on it, Draco? When? We must know. Otherwise you may not be safe to live in this very universe."  
  
Draco gulped. "The last one was a girl named Kathy."  
  
"Did you..."  
  
"Yes, I did. But I can't remember doing it. Kathy never reported me, she just stayed away."  
  
"What exactly do you do Draco, before it happens?"  
  
"It feels like I am bursting...and then there's darkness...darkness everywhere."  
  
***  
  
By the end of the class, Ginny and Draco were the last ones left, packing up.  
  
Draco grabbed her shoulder abruptly. She shivered, looking his way. His grip got more tighter around her shoulder.  
  
"What're you doing?" she whispered, her eyes boring into his. She could see the pools of gray dissolve into many icy blocks of blue as he leaned over, gripping her other shoulder. What was happening? There was a power, a heatness sort radiating from him; his cheeks were turning red, as if he was out of control. There was power...  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley!" Professor McGongall barked.  
  
They both turned swiftly, and Draco let go off of her, letting a sigh of relief out.  
  
"Please go to your next class. No use standing here."  
  
"Yes, Professor," they both replied at the same time, heading off to their classes. Ginny rushed out, careful not to be beside Draco. There was definitely something strange about him.  
  
***_  
  
  
  
  
Well? How was it? This plot just came out of nowhere, I got the title inspired when I was reading a fic by Davesmom (but don't worry, no copying!). It might be a bit morbid, but I'd appreciate some reviews. After all, it seems highly unfair if a classic love/fluff fic (though very well written) is getting more reviews *cough* aos *cough* than a one with a vivid plot.  
  
  
Please review,  
love,  
-S.A. Court  
_


	2. Part II

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

"And it started when...?"

"When I was eight. Every time somebody passed by, I could hear them. I could hear it." Ginny paused, her eyes in depth of the memory.

"And what did you do?"

Ginny gave a cold, harsh laugh. "What could I do? I was eight. I thought it was normal. There were points in my life where I thought everyone could do it."

"But Ginny, what you have is the makings of a true Seer..."

"You're saying it's a gift," Ginny said, blinking at the owlish face before her.

"Yes of course it is...what else could it be?"

"A curse. It's a damned curse. And I have yet to rid of it."

***

"How was your first day, then?" Hermione asked casually, tilting her head to listen to the young Ginny Weasley sitting across from her at the table.

"It was alright."

"Did Malfoy bother you? Because if he did, I'll beat his..." Ron started to complain.

A flush ran over Ginny's cheeks. "No, he didn't bother me," she said, slowly and truthfully. He hadn't bothered her at all. In fact, there was something unusual about him. Whenever she tried to dip into his thoughts, it never came, intentionally or unintentionally, in fact.

__

He didn't bother her...why is she blushing? came Harry's thoughts. Ginny learned to avoid his eyes.

__

Damnit, I hope Ginny doesn't get full marks on that Transfiguration essay ...I need to be the best, I just need to... Hermione's thoughts said. Ginny was astounded, but was wise not show her expression.

Pumpkin juice, fudge, Ron's thoughts sang in her mind. She shook them away, the buzzing in her throat rising. 

"Ginny are you okay?" Hermione appeared to be very concerned. _I hope she gets sick; then she won't be able to do the essay_.

"I am fine," Ginny replied, smiling sweetly at her. Then, rising from the table, she excused herself, saying she needed to go to the library (at this, Hermione seemed very worried), and walked out of the Great Hall. A certain infamous other watched this and rose from his table too.

***

Ginny was walking around the corridors when she heard footsteps behind her. She stopped.

The footsteps stopped.

She fastened her pace.

So did the footsteps.

Don't worry about it, she thought anxiously to herself. Just read the person's thoughts, find out who it is...

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get into their mind. Hurrying to the library, she walked in and looked around her. Luckily, it was nearly deserted excluding a few Ravenclaws and Madame Pince, who stared at her beadily when she arrived. 

"Hello, Weasley," a voice drawled in a dangerous tone behind her. Her heartbeat increased as she turned around.

Malfoy.

"Hi," she greeted, opening her book hastily and attempting to try to look interested in the studies of Arithmacy, while trying furiously to find out what Malfoy's intention was: but all she could hear was a large pang in his mind. What was it? Malfoy was desiring something...,something...

His eyes were upon her, his eyebrow raised, raking over her.

"What do you want?" she said softly.

"Many things," he replied mysteriously, staring at her robes pointedly. Ginny's blush washed over her, starting from the tip of her nose and into the neck of her robes, where it faded. Draco's eyes followed every movement, which Ginny found rather unnerving to see.

***

"Has there ever been a certain situation where you and the person were both in...sexual agreement?"

Draco paused, blinking.

"That is yet to come."

***

Ginny was walking after classes late in hours. She had been in the library to finish off homework so she would have the rest of the week free; this procedure was found very successful, although it made her tired and weary most of the times. As she walked, she had the sudden pricking sensation in her neck: someone was watching her. In the darkness of the corridors, she turned swiftly, but there appeared to be nobody behind her.

Walking a bit more faster, she tried not to feel alarmed, but there was somebody's thoughts drawing closer to her...

__

She's right there no don't do it don't you don't want it she can't be another Kathy.

Gasping, Ginny found herself being grabbed by the arm, looking into the gray eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"What do you want? Please, let go," she said, struggling to get him to stop wringing her arm in pain.

"I can't," he replied, with hesitant eyes. _No, please, I am so sorry, I am so sorry.._

"What is it? Please, let me go, I won't tell anyone this ever happened..."

"It's not easy to let you go."

"Why not?"

"Your blood smells so delicious..." He painfully gripped her by the neck, and pulled her over, his eyes darkening, lips over hers. First, they tenderly moved against hers, and she froze, feeling the touch tingle across her lips to her neck. A sudden prick brought her back to focus. He had bit her, and she could feel the bitter taste of blood soaking up to her teeth.

Ginny had never been so terrified in her whole life.

***

WOW! I was blown away by the amount of reviews! Yesterday I had nine reviews, now there's nineteen! You guys rock! I loved every and each of your reviews!!! I wasn't going to update this today but since you guys gave me a lot of reviews, you deserve it!!! I am sorry if this chapter is sort of - not good and really ...morbid. And nope, this isn't a story where I just want them to have sex; it's going to be more deeper than that. You guys thought that I was only going to put Draco's obsession, right? My GOD! Haven't I always shocked you? Why the underestimation now? 

Well, remember to leave a review!!! THANKS AGAIN FOR SUCH GREAT ONES LAST TIME!!!

Love,

-S.A. Court


	3. Part III

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. **Beta-Read by Catia Royce.**

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

He wrapped his arms around her neck forcefully, and she struggled underneath him. He grinned through her mouth - he loved the struggle, the squirming. It was sick, it was demented, but he loved it. She couldn't get away - the innocent little girl...

"Stop it," she whispered. "You don't want to do this. You know you don't."

He had let her be pulled away. She was staring at him, her hair tangled into a mess, blood dripping from her lips, her face unreadable, but the cold determination in her eyes.

Those words reached him, and he stared blankly at her for several moments, then shook himself, realization striking him: what was he doing? He had no control over himself at all. She waited patiently for his response.

He gave none. Courage fled him. Turning around, he began to walk quickly away, breaking into a run.

***

"How do your parents act toward it?"

"Father doesn't pay attention, he just wants me to become a Death Eater. He says that this is good for me; that it'll make me more stronger," Draco answered bitterly.

"And your mother?"

"She's repulsed. She doesn't even touch me anymore - she only speaks when she has to, does what she has to, and hardly does anything else."

"What do you think made it happen? Why _did_ it happen, Draco? Draco? What is it?"

"I don't know," Draco lied, although knowing all too well.

***

"Twelve. That's the age where I learned how to go into people's minds."

"What is it like? Does your inner-eye disturb you?"

"It's sort of like a three-way dimension, but I keep it in my mind so it doesn't get into my words. And I hide it - I've always been a good actress," Ginny said, smiling a bit.

"Twelve you say..."  


"Yes."

"And how did you learn it?"

Ginny fell into complete silence.

"Ginny?"

"I don't know," she lied.

Also knowing all too well.

***

Ginny Weasley arrived into the common room suspiciously late. She had been outside the portrait hole for quite some time, debating on whether or not to faint or go inside and forget about it. But forgetting about it was hard to do. She went inside, and was relieved to see it was deserted. Lugging one of the armchairs by one of the windows, she was delighted to see that it was raining. Rain always intrigued her; the fresh, grass smell afterwards, and the pouring droplets never left her bored. She would sit hours by the window, reading or just watching silently. 

She shivered, looking over her shoulder every so often. After her frightening encounter with Draco, she did not want to relive another breathtaking experience. She closed her eyes, and opened them again, admiring the ripples that splattered against the windowpane. Opening it, she let her hand out, and water rinsed through it quickly. 

It reminded her too much of that one rainy day that had changed her life.

Don't think about it, just watch the rain, her mind prompted, scolding her for her sensitivity. But she couldn't help it. It reminded her so much of that day. 

Her mind was sharp and clear at the memory. She had turned twelve over the summer, and was wishing that summer would never end. She didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, where pitiless studies surrounded her, and where people hardly noticed her, although she had a few friends here and there. 

"It's raining! Oh, heavens, it's raining! Ginny, come look!" Mrs. Weasley had cried out in astonishment, which led Ginny to stumble down the stairs, sure that her mother was lying. And yet, it was raining, right outside.

"In this heated summer! Can you believe it? What in the world?" her mother kept saying. Ginny paid no such attention. She looked longingly out the window.

"Mother - please can I..."

"No," her mother said firmly.

"But mother! It's summer! I just want to see it! I promise I'll come back!"

"It's almost lunchtime," her mother tried to protest, but Ginny frowned so poutingly that she gave in. Ginny sprinted off outside, feeling more alive than ever. Her worries and troubles left her - her worry about Harry coming to stay next summer, her worries about her mother almost finding about the visions she had when she was eight.

She was free. She stood in front of the Burrow, letting the rain pour on her, taint through her clothes, making them transparent. Her hair was straight now, curls gone, wet and drenched on her shoulders. And then, a sudden stab went into her stomach.

Ginny clutched it, flinching. What was going on? she had thought.

A vision came into her mind. A vision. Something was terribly wrong...she could see a vision of a boy, laying, shaking uncontrollably. She could see a blonde woman's disgusted face - she could hear someone's laughter - then - slowly, a melody was rising in her ears, ringing against her eardrums.

Kath- Kath - Kath, someone had hissed. The only vision she saw was glowering eyes before she found herself on the ground, as if she had been asleep for many years.

When she returned to the Burrow, the changes had bluntly appeared to her. Not only did she have the visions of a true Seer, she could read people's thoughts whenever she wanted to - at first it seemed a bit fun, as if she had the higher advantage.

But as years progressed on, she knew it was a curse - raw, morbid, and distasteful. It was a disease - a virus that ran through her veins, that cruised through her blood - and she had it.

***

When he rushed into his Prefect's dorm, he heard the scatter of raindrops.

His heartbeat stopped. Rain. How long had it been since the last rainfall? Four years, tops, perhaps?

The last rainfall he could remember, anyway. He never paid attention to the weather before, but now this rain was familiar. It sounded the same, felt the same just like when he was thirteen.

__

Thirteen. The word sounded so foreign, so distant to him now. Yet he knew it so well. It was the day. It was the only day he had ever seen that rained in summer.

He was upstairs, in his room. Like he had told _him_, he had truthfully received his first sense when he was thirteen. But nobody knew why.

Only him.

It was the day he met Katherine. People who knew his 'psychological' basis, assumed he had met Katherine when he had sensed her.

But it wasn't true. Not true at all. On his thirteenth birthday, he had met her in the dinner party. And then, months after that, that summer..., the day after it rained...

He was drunk, he knew that. She was drunk too. They woke up in the morning naked, in bed together. And Draco knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life. But he couldn't get enough - the day he had deflowered himself and another virgin girl was when his obsession began - he couldn't help it - Kath had told him to stay away from her; but he never listened, he watched her every movement. And the second time they had sex, he had forced it on her.

His obsession grew stronger, and this was how he had lost part of his sanity.

And yet, there was one piece missing. Katherine wasn't his first sense.

So, who was?

It was that day, the morning it was raining. He was sitting in bed, thinking about Katherine and him getting together tomorrow. And then, a pain like a thousand knives that thawed through his chest, a burning sensation. His eyes were fluttered closed.

He was in a dark haven. He was feeling his way by touching the walls.

He could smell it - the copper smell of blood. He could even taste it. It was pure.

And she lay, a small, figure, and he bent down, to devour her sweetness...

Draco had been shaking when he woke up. Sweat was pouring down his neck and watered his shirt.

And odd, how the raining had stopped.

Also strange, that the fact of knowing always rang in his mind, but he never confronted it; never wanted to admit it. The girl that seemed to have started his obsession to begin with was Katherine - but the girl in the floor, who he wanted the most - it was a connection - it felt just like one.

His thoughts were interrupted by the realization that it was still raining. Looking away from the window, he slid into his covers, which were always cold, and sank his head into the pillows, not being able to get the picture out of his mind.

***

Proof that this isn't a smut fic. BTW, I know I sort of didn't mention Ginny's events with Riddle - let's pretend that didn't happen for this fic. Also, when Ginny was having her first vision, she was seeing the future, so don't think I made a mistake by changing dates and stuff. I am so sorry if this is confusing, this is really confusing for me too, lol! Thanks for all the reviews!!! :D 

Remember to review,

Love,

-S.A. Court


	4. Part IV

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

"Ginny?" Someone was shaking her vigorously, but her eyes were glued together, and refused to open. She had been in such a great dream...she had been dreaming about being normal, about having somebody love her...

"Ginny!" the voice grew louder. She awoke, and turned to her right, seeing that it was her brother, shaking her.

"What?" she snapped.

"Did you sleep here?" he asked, a look of concern flashing through his face.

"Yes," she muttered. "Must've dozed off...what's it to you?"

Ron was still staring at her, dazed. His lips were quivering as he spoke, "What's that on your cheek?"

"What?" Quickly, her hand rose to her flesh. She felt something wet there. To her startled surprise, as she took her hand away, she saw spots of red on her fingers.

"Oh, that," she murmured, avoiding his eyes. She didn't bother dipping into his thoughts - she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"What happened to you?" he breathed, his eyes wide.

"Nothing!" Ginny lied. "I don't know what happened to my cheek..."

"Here, hold still, I'll do a healing charm..."

"Ron!" she complained, as he grabbed his face with both hands and pointed to the space between her lips and cheek.

"Reparo!" 

A tingling, numbing feeling was spreading across her skin...at first, Ginny was relieved to see that it was working...but then, she gave a cry as there was a sudden stinging sinking into her skin.

The wand flew out of Ron's hand. He looked at her, a mixture of puzzlement and surprise on his face. "What's going on...why isn't it healing?"

"Maybe you did it wrong...listen, I'll fix it myself, okay?" Before he could protest, she hurriedly walked upstairs to her dorms.

***

Draco groaned as he turned over - the sunlight was proceeding to persue to him to wake. Sunlight? Immediately, he bolted upwards and looked out the window. It was sunny, the air dewy but otherwise clean and refreshing - it was as if it had never rained.

***

"Do you ever try to help yourself?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I think about other things. Like schoolwork, or...Qudditch, anything."

"Does it work?"

"Sometimes...I can avoid it for a while but..."

"But what, Draco? Perhaps this is another step to your recovery."

"Don't you get it?" he yelled, almost flinging himself off the chair. "There's no recovery. There is none."

***

When Ginny went upstairs, she took out the round-shaped mirror she brought from home and looked at herself. A gasp restrained itself in her throat. Her slightly freckled face looked back at her, her wavy auburn hair, her wide, brown eyes, but there was dried blood traced across in lines from her mouth to her cheek.

Taking her wand, she tapped it four times, muttering a charm she had learned just a few weeks before.

The blood vanished quickly, but as Ginny lowered herself to observe further, she saw that there were two, thin scars gleaming on her skin.

***

"Why do you fight it, Ginny? Why? You could be a Seer, and you are one of the few people that can read minds without Legilimency. I doubt many know that there are such humans. They are very rare, you see - we haven't even got a name for them in the Wizarding world, perhaps the muggle world knows it...but that's not that the point."

"Why does everything it's so great? Isn't it better to just leave without knowing everything? What if you wanted to know something about someone and ...when you read their thoughts; they're someone completely different?"

"It's a gift, Ginny...make the best of it."

"How is it a gift? Tell me. Go on," she challenged.

But the person before her seemed to have no answer.

***

Draco sat in the Transfiguration room, looking around the scattered students that were chattering. Professor McGonagall was standing before her desk, waiting for the rest to come inside.

Today, he had told Crabbe and Goyle to sit together and leave him alone. He felt no ambition nor anticipation of them whispering in his ears, or laughing stupidly at every joke he told. He caught his breath, however, when Ginny Weasley was the last person to come in. Professor McGonagall gestured toward the classroom, obviously telling her to sit wherever she wanted.

Ginny muttered something back to her, and an expression of lighthearted shock rinsed through the wrinkles of the Professor's face as Ginny proceeded upwards in the classroom, to the Slytherin's side, and took a seat next to Draco.

He swallowed, expecting to see her glare at him, or whisper that she was going to get him sacked. Instead, she did the thing that he would lastly expect her to do. She smiled at him. 

A slight, hesitant smile. 

Sweat was pouring through his forehead, and he looked away, avoiding her eyes. Their shoulders were touching, making it immensely difficult to concentrate. But throughout the lesson, Draco could swear he was trying to refrain from smiling himself.

***


	5. Part V

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. _Looked over by C. Royce._

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

"Other than visions and high advanced unused Legilimency, is there anything else that has happened?"

"Dreams."

"Dreams?" Ginny watched her frown. "Everyone has those."

"Dreams of the future," Ginny explained, a look of annoyance covering her face. "Sometimes I can block them out with a Sleeping Potion, but other times when I wake, I just force myself to forget."

"Forget? Forget!" she said, her voice filled with fury. "How can you forget? Dear girl, this is a gift, how many times do I have to tell you! Isn't there one you haven't forgotten? Anything?" she leaned over eagerly. 

"Yes."

"Which one was that?"

"The one where I lose this gift. Although I think that was just an ordinary dream," Ginny retorted, taking a great liking to the anger revolving around the woman's face.

***

It was just a kiss...one kiss. She clumsily hovered her lips against his, and he snaked an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. Her breath fanned his bare chest as he let go, planting little kisses from her jaw line to her neck. She bit her lip, afraid of what was happening, but he slid his body against hers, and she pressed against him as he gracefully tugged the dress off of her body. 

He lay his hands over her shoulders, sending her to close her eyes, his hands wandering all over, sending her into vibrating completion.

"I'll never leave you," he whispered.

She didn't reply, falling into deep darkness. After what seemed to be a long time, she turned to wrap her arms around him, but when she opened her eyes, he was gone. She called his name, but again, no response. Stumbling out of her bed, she heard creaks every so often.

"Who's there?" she asked, looking around frantically. She looked up to see Draco standing alone in the end of the room, his face looking back stonily at her.

"Why are you there?"

He didn't answer. He tugged the sleeve of his shirt up, apparently trying to show her something. But even as she squinted she couldn't see. Drawing herself closer to him, she was just inches away, looking at his shoulder when -

Draco's gray eyes became ones of red slits, looking back at her furiously. She screamed, not knowing what was happening. A whirlpool of wind rushed through her, and she heard two people scream...

Ginny Weasley woke up, breathless, her chest heaving, still screaming.

***

Draco Malfoy awakened from his nightmare, his body numb and cold as he screamed. There was something piercing itself into his arm.

***

Harry Potter awoke, having never felt so much pain in his scar before besides the times he was in presence of Voldemort. He looked over and saw that his shirt was stained with blood. His breathing growing ragged, he took it off, looking for the injury. What he found was the Dark Mark glowing in his arm.


	6. Part VI

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

"He is highly dangerous - I suggest you take him out of school! He's in his seventh year, he could attack anyone! He is very capable to do so! Virtues will be destroyed...I am telling you."

"I decide who can stay at my school and I will let him stay. Just because he has a - has a tendency to sense people - doesn't mean he can't complete his education here at Hogwarts."

"Professor?" a voice said, Harry's face peering in from the doorway. "Are you busy...or..."

"No, no, Harry, please come in, Dr. Styfines was just leaving..."

"This is my last warning, Dumbledore. You'll regret having him stay here," he interrupted in a warning tone.

"Then may it be my regret, not yours, Dr. Styfines. The exit is that way," Dumbledore instructed, motioning his head toward the right. With an angry growl of frustration, he stormed out so that Harry and Dumbledore were safely alone.

"You needed to talk to me, Harry?"

"Yes...I did...I had a ...dream last night."

"You did?" Dumbledore offered him a seat, which he took, rather nervously.

"It was a dream...about Ginny."

"Virginia Weasley?" he questioned.

"Yes."

"Before we continue - is this personal-based, Harry? Or something I should know?"

"Something you should know."

"Alright, go on."

"See...it was a ...blurry dream," Harry recalled, his head pointedly at his knees, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. He needn't tell him about what actually happened in the dream...just the basics.

"I see."

"Ginny was...Ginny was kissing Malfoy," Harry continued hurriedly, a blush creeping over his cheeks. "And, I don't remember what happened next," he lied. "But, Ginny was waking up, and she went toward the room...and she saw Malfoy, she went toward him...he turned into... Voldemort. And I woke up."

There was a slight pause as Dumbledore leaned over to observe Harry and his textures. "Did your scar hurt?"

"Yes, harder than ever."

"What else, Harry?"

"I woke up...with blood all over me. I..."

Harry seemed to be debating on something as he lifted the sleeve of his shirt, and showed him the faint, Dark Mark that was imprinted on his arm.

Dumbledore looked merely surprised as he put a finger to it, caressing it. "This is what you saw?"

"Yes," he replied, looking startled to see how casual and offhand Dumbledore was taking this.

"This is not the real Dark Mark."

He lifted his head, a relief swept over his face, an expression well endowed and clear. "It's not?" he asked hopefully.

"No. It's worse."

"How? How is it worse?"

"It's the mark that Tom drew when he was in your year, it was the first draft, that he carved around his own arm. Of course it was destroyed by him later on, once he declared himself as therefore the Dark Lord, and he made a final draft of it on his followers instead, so they could know when he wanted to contact them."

"But...Professor, why..." he trailed off, looking at the mark with deep disgust.

"I am impressed with the way you're handling this, Harry."

  
"Handling what? What am I handling? Why aren't you telling me anything?"

"I have only predictions, Harry on why he has marked you. I have nothing definite in mind."

Harry laughed coldly. "Right. But you have to keep them secret right? After what I went through in fifth year, you're still keeping secrets two years later? Don't you remember? You should've told me everything straight out. You could've told me that there was a prophecy. You should've told me about why you wanted me to take mind-lessons from Snape. Sorry, _Professor _Snape," he added sarcastically. "You could've told me. Then - then I would've known it was a trap...then..." his voice broke off. "Then Sirius wouldn't have died."

"Harry..."

"No, tell me why he has marked me, Professor. Tell me."

Dumbledore grew into deep silence before he spoke again. "The war between Tom - Voldemort that is, his followers and the good side has not finished yet. Yes, it is a fact that Voldemort has gone into hiding once more, thinking of a new plan. Nobody knows where. Everyone is learning Dark Arts whenever they can. They want to protect themselves, Harry. Even I cannot, under the circumstances, know what Tom is thinking of, for though he has made his mistakes in the past - he is still brilliant. But - I believe another war has begun, Harry. This is the war we talked about in your fifth year. A war we developed, studied for in this very castle. The war between you and Tom. He has marked you as his equal officially. And you remember what you saw in my memory, in the spoken words of Sibyll Trelawny..."

"...Either must die at the hand of the other for..."

"...Neither can live while the other survives..." Harry completed with dismay.

Dumbledore gave him a quivering frown. "Exactly."

***

"Well, thank you for speaking to me, Ms. Weasley, but I see no future for you. You obviously are ungrateful of the gifts you have."

"I am not ungrateful," Ginny snapped. "I just don't want them."

Professor Trelawney gave her a regretful look. "You may go, my child."

Turning her back to her, Ginny began to walk away.

"...IT IS TIME..." a harsh voice said behind her. Ginny turned around, and a gasp caught in her throat when she saw Professor Trelawney's face go blank, her lips set into a thin line, her eyes rolling back as she continued to speak, as if not aware of Ginny's presence.

"...THE BOY HAS BEEN MARKED. THE WAR HAS BEGUN. FOR THE THREE CHILDREN THAT HAVE POWERS HAVE BEEN CHOSEN FOR BLOODSHED. WHEN THE SIXTEENTH DAY IS BORN; THE DARK LORD IS TO GROW MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER, EXCEEDING ANY POWER OF ANY DECENT WIZARD. ONE WILL DIE; THE OTHER WILL SURVIVE. THREE CHILDREN HAVE BEEN CHOSEN FOR BLOODSHED IN POWERS THE DARK LORD ANTICIPATES TO FIGHT INNOCENCE , ONE OF THE POWERS THAT THE GREAT CASSANDRA EMBRACED , ONE OF THE POWERS THAT THE DARK LORD FIGHTS AGAINST, AND ONE POWER OF THE DIVIDED CASSANDRA. TWO OF THESE POWERS AT BIRTH IN THE GREAT RAINFALL. THE LAST POWER GIVEN AT THE PRESENCE OF DEATH AND SACRIFICE. ONE WILL DIE...THE OTHER WILL...SURVIVE..." Her head shifted back, and she flickered her eyes open once more, staring at Ginny.

"Oh, I am sorry...I must've dozed off there..."

***

Professor Trelawney *rolls eyes* Clueless. Anyways. Hope that made sense. If it didn't...well, I don't know. Sorry if I went overdramatic on the little (okay, massive) prediction. Yeah, there's no D/G action here. But there will be. Soon, I promise. Remember what my summary said. I hope everyone's read OOTP...because I gave a lot of things away in this chapter. Also, I realized a mistake in chapter one or two...Draco said that his father acts like his curse is not there...well, I forgot, Draco's father was accused of being a Death Eater, right? But let's just pretend that never happened. Oh, yeah...it's so hard to find a fan-artist for this fic, because either they're inexperienced or they don't have a scanner, even though they're brilliant. So if you're a fan-artist that would be willing to do a couple of pieces, and have fair practice, and have a scanner, or know of somebody that would be willing, please let me know by email or review. Hope this chapter was long enough for you guys.

Remember to leave a review,

love,

-S.A. Court


	7. Part VII

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

He was outside the grounds, sitting on the grass, his legs upward in front of him, and he was staring at them with a dazed look on his face, as if he had never seen them before.

She watched him for several moments before she proceeded to walk forward, lurching to a stop in front of him. "M-Malfoy?" she stammered, trying to savor courage.

Draco turned his head, looking at her with a blank stare. "What're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at breakfast?"

"Do you want some pumpkin juice?" Ginny offered, her smile quivering, avoiding the question.

"Err...alright," he accepted awkwardly, taking the cup from her hands and slowly drowning it in one satisfied gulp, the ice cold freezing his throat in it's familiarity.

She sat down without invitation, looking at anywhere but him, the length of her neck to her face covered in a red, massive blush.

"You should really stop doing that," he muttered. She caught his eye but turned away rather quickly. A few moments of silence had erupted, and they both motioned to speak at the same time.

"..Listen I am sorry about..."

"...I had a dream about..."

They looked at each other expectantly.

"What?" they both said in the same time, in awestruck surprise.

"I am sorry about biting you," he said, looking at his knees.

"Well, that's something I don't hear every day," Ginny joked.

He merely smirked back at her. Her eyes looked glassy, her hair tumbling in her shoulders. She had grown taller, he had noticed, since she had been in her second year. Her freckles had faded away, but there were still some spread out on her cheeks, unnoticeable unless you were close to her, which he was. She wasn't beautiful, but she wasn't adorable either. It was something else that made him drawn to her, something else besides the purity in her blood, which he sensed, which he sensed whenever he was close to her, it was always thumping in his ears, making him dizzy. It looked like the perfect time to kiss her. Her face was inches away from his, she was frowning as if in concentration, and her eyes were directed into his. He leaned over to kiss her, but she gave a strangled gasp and sat upright, her knees to her chin. She was scared. Of him. Humiliation washed over him, and he knew there were tinges of red in his pale cheeks.

Ginny's breath increased it's pace. He had leaned over, wanting to kiss her. Or bite her. Or injure her. It shouldn't have frightened her the way it did, but she couldn't help it. The night was still clear and fresh in her memory. While she was thinking, he had sat up so he was next to her, and put a hand under her chin. Her face was lifted, and he looked at her, his gray eyes menacing.

"Why didn't you heal this?" he breathed, a finger to touch the two scars near her cheek.

She gave a start as he did this, but didn't move away. "I couldn't."

"You couldn't?" Draco raised an eyebrow, still eyeing it warily.

"No...the spell only healed the- the blood," she whispered.

"Oh...let me do it, then," he snarled. She was about to back away when he stuck his hand in his robes, taking out his wand, pressing it to her flesh, and muttering a charm of some kind.

But all she felt was a tickling sting around her skin. "Why won't it heal?" he asked, frowning.

"I - I don't know," she stuttered nervously. "It doesn't matter, anyway."

"Yes it does," he retorted, making his hand full under her chin, leaning over so he could see it more closely, their legs touching through their robes with immense intensity. She noted with frustration that his lips had yet to brush against hers.

Somebody behind them cleared their throat. "Am I interrupting something?"

Both jumped, and Ginny scrambled to her feet, facing Harry.

"No! No! Nothing. How's it going?" 

Harry gave Malfoy a glare, throwing her an apprehensive look. 

"Why weren't you at breakfast?"

"Well, that's obvious Potter, she was here. With me," he drawled as an afterthought, nodding, looking at him smugly.

"I need to talk to you," he told Ginny, ignoring Malfoy.

"What about?" she breathed.

Harry gave a look to Malfoy. "Alone."

"Oh," she whispered, a blush embracing her face once more. "Alright."

They both turned to leave, but Malfoy stood up, grabbing her arm. He twisted it grimly so that she turned around. He cupped her face in his hand, making sure Harry saw, and leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Hope it gets healed."

She was breathless as he turned his back to him, sitting back on the ground, with Harry furiously tugging at her sleeve.

***


	8. Part VIII

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

"What's this about, Harry?" she asked, not standing to look at him.

"It's about...you. And Malfoy," Harry added.

"Look...I know it looked dodgy," Ginny started to explain, but with no avail, as she was suddenly interrupted by Colin's appearance, his flushed face toward Harry's.

"Harry, Dumbledore needs to speak to you. Say it's urgent."

"Not now, Colin. I am having a discussion," Harry remarked coldly.

"Harry!" Ginny said, startled. "Go to Dumbledore. We'll talk later. Thanks for the message, Colin," she said, smiling at the redhead sweetly.

He blushed, scurrying away, with only one glance at Harry before he did. With a nod, she began to walk away, turning her back to him, not one fleeting look back. Something she had wanted to do for a long time.

***

At Transfiguration, Ginny was relieved and delighted to see that Draco was early, sitting in the classroom, as if expecting her arrival so soon.

"Hi," she muttered softly, going shy as she slid in the seat next to him. "This seat's not err...taken, right?"

He didn't answer. Looking straight forward, he asked, "Why are you acting like this, Weasley?"

"Acting like what?" She tried not to appear flustered, and began to unpack her books, trying to take the embarrassment that was heaving in her chest.

"Look, I didn't...I didn't mean to kiss you that night," Draco prompted. "It just...happened. There's some things I can't tell you, but it'll never happen again. Your a Gryffindor, not to mention a Weasley...you don't have to be nice to me just because I attacked you."

Her face fell into a crestfallen expression. Then, anger rose. "Have you ever heard of being nice, Malfoy?" she spat inwardly, her cold voice ringing painfully throughout her ears. "It's what some people do. Normal people, anyways."

He bit his lip. "Normal people? Normal people. Well, some would say it's not so 'normal' to be completely innocent and open the Chamber in which unleashed the greatest of the Hogwarts four. Some wouldn't call it normal for a girl to be nice to a guy that almost forced her. Some would say 'normal' isn't what describes a silly little girl that goes crushing after the same guy for over four years!"

She sat up, people who had arrived, looking at her as she did. "You suck, Malfoy, you know that?" she yelled, not caring whether or not the whole world heard her. "You're a piece of shit and I can't believe I even _ thought_ of being nice to you, you're so filthy! It must be nice to almost kiss me just this morning, and then go back to the egotistical bastard you are. Of course, with a father like yours, who can blame you?"

"Ginny!" she heard a female voice exclaim. She was pretty sure it was Hermione's, but she didn't care. Not bothering to even pick up her books, she stumbled out of her chair, flushed and angry with dripping rage.

"Miss Weasley, where are you going...where are you going?" Professor McGonagall cried after her, but Ginny was so enraged that she walked out, slamming the door behind her, the slam echoing in the silence that followed, and all eyes were now on Draco. However, to everyone's surprise, he silently gathered Ginny's books, barely looking at his own, and them tucked under his arm, he followed suite.

***

***

Ginny raced upwards the hallway and stopped when she heard footsteps behing her. Whirling around, she brushed against the person who had followed her. Draco.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, surprised that he had ran after her. "Because I am not accepting your apology."

"What apology?" he sneered. "I wasn't going to apologize, Weasley."

"Then why did you follow me?" she challenged him, her eyes pondering over his angelic, pale face.

For this, he was silent. He looked down at his feet, not meeting her eyes directly. 

"Here's your books," he murmured, handing them to her. She accepted them quickly.

"Thanks," she whispered. "I...better go." She turned swiftly.

"But...Professor McGonagall's going to be mad you skipped class."

"I'll make up for it," she confided quietly.

"Oh. Alright."

Surprised at how civil he was being, she turned her head shyly. "You want to come?"

His eyes bored into hers, and he opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. he seemed to be recalling something, because a frightening expression was imprinted on his face. Finally, he said, "No."

"Alright," she said, trying to ignore the heaving disappointment rising in her chest, and walked away, robes flashing, her auburn curls shining behind her.

***

"It's hurting more than ever," Draco complained. It was the end of classes, and he was now in Professor Snape's room, rolling his sleeve up, showing him the dark mark that was drawn fiercely in his arm, that was now burning into his flesh even more.

"Hold still, Draco," Professor Snape said carefully, taking a vial of lime colored potion and dropping several drips of it into his arm. He let out a yell as it stinged through his bone, and he felt sure that the blood had drained out of his body...then a peaceful silence overcame him as the pain slowly went away, but the dark mark was still glowering at him.

"When was the last time it hurt?" Professor Snape asked.

"A...few nights ago, I think. I had a dream, and it just burned..."

"What dream?" he insisted.

"A - a personal dream," Draco muttered, still looking at the Dark Mark as if he was more interested in it than ever.

"Personal dream?" Professor Snape repeated. "Then why would it hurt?"

"Well...in the end, I - I was showing - I was showing somebody the Dark Mark on my arm...and I saw red eyes...it could've been mine, I don't know, really..."

"Draco. This is serious, did you tell the Headmaster?"

"No. My father's already out of Azkaban, I don't want anybody else to think I am some kind of demon or something," he replied carelessly.

"Draco," Professor Snape said in a warning tone.

"Alright, alright," he said, sighing. "I'll tell him...thanks." He put the sleeve of his robes down, nodding toward the teacher and exiting out of the room.

***

The days passed by with no melodrama or events. At the end of the week, Ginny was relieved to see March was only two weeks away. The faster the months passed by, the faster Ginny would be out of the studies, the tests, preparing for her N.E.W.T.S. next year. It had tired her so much that every time she arrived in her dorms, she fell straight asleep in her bed, and woke up in the morning late, missing breakfast and some of her first class. She wasn't the only one. Other sixth years took to studying in classes, and brought an enchanted quill to write their notes for them. That is, until the teachers found out and forbid it completely. The seventh years were the wreck. They had their N.E.W.T.S coming in April, and locked themselves in their rooms, studying until midnight, or sometimes even morning. 

Ginny was in the library, studying hard for the Defense Against the Dark Arts part of her exams. Although sixth years didn't have N.E.W.T.S yet, they still had end-of-the year exams, and Ginny wanted to be highly prepared for them, as she had dreams of working in the Ministry, or becoming a Healer after school. It wasn't definite yet, all that she knew was that she wanted to do something good, and she wanted to have her name well-known. As she skimmed through the pages of books, she looked up and saw that Draco was sitting across from her, watching her silently.

She gasped. "You scared the hell out of me!" 

"Sorry," Draco said. Leaning over, he picked up one of her books. "What're you studying for? It's us seventh years that have the pressure on."

Ginny glared at him. "I'll have you know that sixth years have exams too, you know."

"Oh, right. End of the year exams. Who cares about those? It's the N.E.W.T.S that's going to get you where you want to go."

She didn't respond. Instead, she tried to block all things from her mind, except for the book in front of her. She concentrated hard on studying, trying not to think about Draco. But it was hard as he yawned several times, tapping his quill against the desk rapidly, and she knew he was trying to annoy her.

"Can you please stop?" 

"Stop what?" he asked, blinking innocently.

"You know very well what!"

He stopped, but only for the next twenty minutes did she get to study more. After that, she began to feel oddly drowsy, and the library was now almost deserted, since it was night, and they all settled for studying in their common rooms or dorms.

Picking up her books, she began to walk away.

"Wait!" he caught up to her, walking beside her. They walked silently, until she stopped in front of the Fat Lady.

He grabbed her arm, and she was pulled into him, pressing against him like she'd never done before. She could feel his reaction to her as he wrapped his arms around her neck, tilting her head so that his lips were centimeters from hers.

"I promise not to bite this time," he breathed, and she could feel his heartbeat thumping against his chest as he was wrapped around her.

And with that, he heatedly devoured his lips against hers, savoring the taste of purity brushing against his mouth, and his arm felt as if it was going to explode - it felt as if a thousand knives had stabbed through his arm, and he could almost see the mark as clear as lightening, under his closed eyelids.

***


	9. Part IX

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. _Beta-read by Catia Royce _

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

He scooped her in his arms, but his teeth went searing into her lip, and she cried out just as he pulled away from her as if he had been attacked.

"You said you weren't going to bite," she whispered, her hand aiding her lip.

"Sorry," he an apologetic look washing over him. "I have to go..."

"Wait, where are you going?" she asked, staring strangely at him as he clutched his arm.

"It's late, Weasley..." he argued.

"Oh...I was going to invite you inside," Ginny whispered, red creeping her cheeks and neck.

He managed to throw her a smirk through the pain, her invitation tempting him, but he knew he couldn't accept. For one thing, if anybody saw him with her, they would quickly jump to conclusions of why he was there; for another, if she was in his presence, he knew it was not safe.

"Not tonight, Weasley," he grumbled, before walking off again, leaving her not only alone, but rather infuriated with herself.

***

He doesn't want you, she told herself knowingly. Why else would he break away from you? You're a bad kisser. That's obviously it. Sighing, she entered the common room, and was startled to see Harry in her usual armchair, a book in his hands, looking drowsy and tired.

"Ginny! Finally. Where've you been? Not with Malfoy?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I've been studying," she said slowly, and truthfully.

He glanced at her suspiciously, but motioned toward an armchair across from him. "Sit," he offered gently, a kind tone in his voice. She sat down, her arms folded over her chest, looking at him anxiously.

"What's this about?"

"Ginny...I had a dream."

"Really?" Ginny snapped sarcastically, then shook herself. "Sorry...I am tired and all."

Harry winced a bit at her voice. "Last week, I had a dream about you...and Malfoy."

She looked at him, curiously striking into his thoughts.

__

Yeah, go on Harry-boy. Tell her you're a straight out pervert and you saw her and Malfoy getting it on. Why don't you lie and say that you wanted to join too? That'll make her worried, his voice was saying in her mind. There was a strange buzzing in her ears, and she stopped going into his mind. There were far too many thoughts coming directly from his brain.

"You guys were kissing."

"You're lying," she said suddenly.

He gaped at her, blinking, absolutely awestruck at what she had just said. "How did...how did you know?" he finally said, relenting.

"Because...I had the same dream," she admitted.

"What?"

"Harry...look, I...I never told anybody this," she mumbled, her cheeks flushed. She was obviously flustered. "I mean...my mother and father know, but they sort of ignore it...I don't think any of my brothers know. But, see, Harry...I am a Seer."

"A - a Seer?" he stammered, his mouth still moving afterwards wordlessly.

"Yes. I have visions and dreams." She didn't bother telling him about the mind reading...it would freak him out, and she resented people thinking she was weird. All she had ever wanted to be was normal. Unfortunately, she was far from normal. Even witch-wise.

"T-t-then how come I had them too?" Harry questioned, clutching the ends of his armchair and leaning forward eagerly for her answer.

"I have no idea, Harry. It was a dream about me and Malfoy...having relations...and then he became ..."

"Voldemort," Harry finished, looking away from her.

"Yes. But see, Harry...this includes me too. I mean, I've never had visions of what happened to Sirius or anything, because that wasn't about me. But this dream..."

"It was real," he concluded. "It felt real. You could feel it, right?"

She stared at him, nonplussed. "How did you know?"

Harry shrugged. "I just have a lot of experience with dreams..."

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence as they both looked at each other impassively. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and poised forward as if to speak again, but Ginny was faster.

"Since you told me about the dream truthfully; I guess it's only fair to tell you that...Professor Trelawny made a prediction."

"A prediction? A real one?"

"Yes...I thought she was a fraud, but...then Hermione told me about the prediction in your third year, so I think this is real."

"What did she say?"

"She said - she said Voldemort was going to get stronger than any wizard ever, which includes Dumbledore," she added. "And...something about three people and their powers...it's all I can remember."

Harry frowned. "I don't know anything about that Ginny, but you'd better go with Dumbledore tomorrow. I'll go with you, if you like."

She stood up, a wavering smile clutched to her face. "I'd like that...oh, wait..."

Ginny took all her courage and walked up to Harry, leaning forward tentatively, and placing her lips on his softly. He gasped in his throat, and she could hear it - it was nothing like kissing Draco; a slight dizziness overcame her, but she could smell his scent, grow more deeply immersed in it, and feel comfortable. She pulled away, her hand on his cheek.

"Am I a bad kisser?"

He looked at her, dumbfounded. "N-no..."

"Good." Patting his shoulder, she walked upstairs, disbelief at what she had just done. She was not present, however, when Harry muttered to himself, "Not at all."

***


	10. Part X

**The Blood of A Virgin  
----------------------------**  
  
  
**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. **_Beta-read by Catia Royce****_  
Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
_It started out as a simple dream; it always did. Ginny was kissing him, and he was shirtless, pressing against her. There was nobody around except him and Ginny. No Ron to get in the way, no Malfoy to come and barge in and claim her for himself. He explored the hot velvet of Ginny's mouth, tangled her tongue into his. It was delicious, the way he felt holding her, everything rushing out of his mind except the way Ginny's hair felt like silk through his hands. He gently grasped her waist with his arms, prodding her further against him; she sighed into his mouth. The sound persuaded him to emphasize on the side of her lips.  
  
This was just he and Ginny. Tangled in each other's arms, embracing each other, not daring to let go. Her lips planted firmly on his, her hands going up and down his sides. She pulled away, her forehead against his. "Do you love me?" she whispered.  
  
He was shocked by what came out of his mouth. "Yes."  
  
She kissed him once more, her hands going through his hair, making the raven locks even more tangled than ever.  
  
Then, the dream began to dissolve. Harry protested a bit, but he was now in a dark haven. The setting around him seemed to be illuminated, only shadows could be seen on the walls. He had no idea where he was. All he knew that he was once again in somebody else's body. A cowering, beautiful girl was bowing down to him, her hair most unusual. It was waterfalls of silver curls that wavered down her face and onto the floor. Her gray eyes looked up at him. He found a devilish smile crawling onto his face.  
  
"Have you done my bidding?" he asked, not knowing what he was saying.  
  
"Oh, Master, I am so sorry," the mistress cried. "The boy - I couldn't find him anywhere..."  
  
"He's in the castle, Minersa. He's in the castle!" Harry was yelling at her. He tilted his head, and heard familiar hissing. He grinned in approval, nodding.   
  
"Ah, Nagini. How nice of you to come..and you, Minersa..." he prompted, looking at her helpless figure.  
  
He pointed his finger at her, and a red light emitted from it, striking the mistress in the chest, and she fell, a crestfallen expression on her face still as she jerked back in forth, screaming in surrendering pain..._  
  
Harry awoke in sweat, with not only his scar burning, but his Dark Mark as well.  
  
***  
  
_Draco was kissing her more fiercely than she could ever hope he would. She fell over into a hard surface, and he fell on top of her, tugging at her red tendrils. Then, the horrible light came over her. It was a white light, but she screamed as she saw a bodiless face before her, transparent. Draco had vanished - and she was opposing the face alone. It was a face of a beautiful woman - with dark curls of hair down her sides, her eyelashes long and wiry above her violet eyes.  
  
"I'll see you soon," she had whispered.  
  
I'll see you soon.  
  
All she could remember next is trying to dip into the woman's thoughts before she woke up, drenched in sweat. She looked down, and it was shocked to find a small necklace around her neck, a glimmering green gem placed in the middle of it. It's ancient scratches and structure was visible; it was old and worn. She could feel power radiating from it. She tried to tug it off her neck, but her heart pounded against her chest as she did, and the necklace dropped from her grip and into her blouse, soon forgotten.  
  
***  
  
"Katherine..." he said, a gasp restrained in his throat as she smiled at him.  
  
"Does it feel good to see me again, Draco?" she questioned, her dark hair shaking behind her as she did.  
  
He didn't answer. He looked at her, embellishing on the curves around her bodice of the dress.  
  
She tugged at it. "Is this nice?"  
  
"Yes," he croaked, a lump in his throat unintentionally rising.  
  
"Is this nice?" she repeated, coming closer to him, wrapping her loose arms around his neck, and planting her lips on his.  
  
"Yes," he whispered through his occupied lips. "It is."  
  
She pulled away, and Draco recieved a pain in his arm as he saw that it was not Katherine anymore. She was frail and thin, but extremely pretty, her face white and pale like his, her gray eyes sparkling, curls long and wavy flowing over her face and onto her shoulders, past her waist. Her lips were bloodred, her nose small and artistically designed, her body sporting a thin, silver dress that stuck to her like second skin. He found himself shuddering as his heart skipped at the same time. For someone so beautiful, she was so pale, so dead looking that it scared him.   
  
"Hello," she said, her voice mauve and soft.  
  
"H-h-hi," he stammered, amazed by her beauty.  
  
"My name's Minersa..." she introduced, bowing, her dress flowing like a great wind had rushed through them as she did.  
  
"What do you want?" he said, trembling.  
  
She laughed bitterly. "I have come to do my Master's bidding."  
  
"Bidding?" he looked back at her, blankly.  
  
"Yes." Minersa prodded him backwards, and took out something from the pocket of her flowing dress. A small bag, tied together with strings. She opened it carefully, and took something that shimmered in the darkness. Silver dust that she sprinkled onto him, making him cough uncontrollably. He backed away, his nose twitching. The smell that reached his nostrils was copper; almost like light blood.  
  
"What'd you do that for?" he asked, oddly annoyed.  
  
"Do you know what that was, Young Senser?" she said, bowing to him. He gave her a strange look as she did.  
  
"No..." He scrunched up his forehead in confusion.  
  
"It was Veela dust. It will control any species of human. Veela cannot feel it. Nor can animals or other creatures. Only humans. Wizards and Witches are most affected by it."  
  
"Why did you throw it at me?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows in puzzlement.  
  
She smiled. "You will bed the young girl at the Sixteenth of the Third Month."  
  
He was dazed as she said this, bowed to him once more, and with a wave of her silver dress, a great rush of air swept through both of them. He found his eyes clouding and stinging. He closed them tightly, clenching his fists; feeling his blood pound against his own eardrums..._  
  
Draco lurched out of his bed, gasping at the pain that was lancing his chest and his arm. He felt as if every bone was on flames, and that his skin was being slashed. And all he could hear were the Veela's last words, still ringing in his ears.  
  
***  
  
"Malfoy, you're doing it wrong," Ginny said, sighing, exasperated with him. She felt as if he wasn't concentrating, but whenever she tried to go into his thoughts, the necklace underneath her blouse and school robes struck against her skin, and her mind was dizzy whenever she tried.  
  
"What am I doing wrong?"  
  
"You tap three times, then you say 'Crido'. Make sure you..." her mouth parted a bit, and she fell silent over the chatter of noises coming from students.  
  
"What? Weasley...are you all right?" he asked, awkwardly. "What're you..."  
  
Her eyes glazed over, and she sat perfectly still. Before he could call the professor, she started speaking in a harsh, tight tone of voice.  
  
"...HE WILL DIE. HE WILL DIE. HE WILL DIE. THE OTHER WILL SURVIVE. CASSANDRA IS TO BE REBORN ONCE MORE INTO ANOTHER. THE THREE STRENGTHS ARE TO FIGHT. HE WILL DIE. HE WILL DIE. HE WILL DIE..." she trailed off, her mouth moving wordlessly, her tongue still rolling, her eyes still glazed over.  
  
"Weasley!" he shook her. To his relief, she responded by blinking, and shook herself.  
  
"What happened?" Ginny whispered, trying to ignore the great head rush in her mind.  
  
Draco looked at her expectantly, and then shook himself. Best not to worry Ginny with her odd behavior, especially seeing as she seemed to have just had a vision. Perhaps he should investigate channeling of spirits, though. She'd never said anything about being a Seer, after all.   
  
"Nothing. Nothing at all."  
  
***  
  
Ginny was nearing the Great Hall when Draco caught her, motioning her over to an empty classroom. When he opened the door, she entered reluctantly.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"You...you had a prediction." It might have been a woman's prerogative to change their mind, but Draco was anything but a woman.   
  
"A what?"  
  
"A prediction. A Seer prediction. Are you a..."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What?" he gaped.  
  
"What did I say, Draco?" she demanded. "What?"  
  
"You said...something about Cassandra being born, and then you kept saying 'he will die, the other will survive'...that's all I can remember..."  
  
"Oh...no."   
  
"What is it?"  
  
"That's it. I don't know..." she took a deep breath, burying her face in her hands.  
  
He pulled her over to him, so that her forehead was against his neck, the buzzing in his ears growing louder. He could feel her essence, the purity within her, and he wanted it. She looked up, peeking through her fingers, then letting them go, and reached up to kiss him. This time it was more different than ever. It was intense, and it made her breathless as he continued - his soft lips were tenderly moving against hers - then she felt him increase his pace as he pressed harder. She opened her mouth, and he sought this as an invitation - his tongue slid over hers, and she shivered. Something was paining against her chest. She could feel blood seep out; a wound in her chest was rising - she knew it was the necklace. She could see light behind her closed eyelids.  
  
That's when it happened. At first it seemed as if every piece of blood Ginny had ever had was rushing away from her body, into her mouth, and into his, and everything seemed to be happening immensely fast. She screamed, pushing him away. He looked startled at first, standing, staring at her with a look of pure disbelief. But as if someone had plunged a knife into his chest, he clutched his waist helplessly, and fell over, lying facedown. He whimpered, turning over, his fingernails digging into the front of his shirt.  
  
"Mal - Draco!" she cried, falling to her knees, clutching his face with one hand. "Draco?" she hissed.  
  
He fluttered his eyes open.  
  
"Are you alright?" she asked.  
  
"Err...yes." There was a buzzing in his ears, but different than before. It was a buzzing of - words?  
  
_Oh, I hope he's alright remember the kiss with Harry his hair's falling over..._  
  
"What did you say?"   
  
"I said are you alright..." Ginny raised an eyebrow, a puzzled expression washing over her face.  
  
"No. About the kiss with Potter."  
  
"What?" she looked at him, aghast. "I didn't say anything...oh no..." her face fell, her chin quivering, her lips trembling with utmost worry.  
  
"What is it, Weasley?" Draco asked, folding his arms over his chest, glancing at her curiously.  
  
"You have one of my powers," she whispered, her hair falling over her eyelids. She had a dazed, hopeful look about her face. Her eyes were glittering, however, with exhaustion and fear.  
  
"Which one is that?" he said carefully, and slowly, hoping she did not miss a word.  
  
"To read minds."  
  
***  
  
  
  
I am sorry it took so long; I had to get it beta-read, then edit it, add new things and everything. I wish I had a picture of Minersa, then I would add the link to it; she's definately a character that an artist would want to draw. I am sure someone offered to do artwork for this fic, but since I thought I already had an artist, I forgot about it. If you do artwork and have a scanner, that's all I need! Leave a review or email and I promise to reply! I loved all of your encouraging reviews. I am sorry, for the reviewer who thought the prediction in the last chapter was pathetic. You're allowed to dislike it, of course. But J.K. Rowling did the same thing - she made Trelawney repeat some of the words. Don't tell me you're calling _her_ pathetic for repeating it? I just thought it would be good - to have Trelawney the way she was in POA. Oh, and a little note? Please spell 'pathetic' correctly next time, it's very hard to take a reviewer seriously when she says **I AM** pathetic if she misspells the word *smirk* :).  
  
Review, everyone,  
-S.A. 


	11. Part XI

****

The Blood of A Virgin

----------------------------

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

"To - to read minds?" Draco sputtered, completely perplexed and surprised at this statement. She hung her head, sighing, her tendrils pouring over her face like manes of auburn. She looked up once more, her brown eyes boring into his, and with a slight shrug of her shoulders she wrung her wrists painfully, nervousness flashing through her eyes.

"Yes...it's something I can do," Ginny notified him hesitantly. 

"Since when?"

The question caught her by surprise. She seemed at awe that she didn't answer for several moments as the question echoed around them. "Well..." she shifted uncomfortably. "Since I was twelve. That summer...I...it was such a hot summer, don't you remember? When you walked outside you immediately began to sweat. But then that one day, it rained. It's never rained like that before. Like..." Ginny gestured with her hand in the air, unable to describe it. Like a million mingling colors mixed together in the clouds, spraying across the sky in gray smoke while droplets from heaven sprinkled over her face.

He fixated his gaze on her, his bottom lip trembling with immense unease. "Yes," he retorted promptly. "Of course. The first day in the summer that it rained. Of course," he murmured, staring at her calculatingly through his half-closed lids. 

"Yes...so you _do_ remember," Ginny replied, giving him a strange look. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly, his bewildered expression quickly vanishing into his pale, delicate features. "Go ahead."

"Well...I had this vision. And then when I came back, I could read ...actually it's not that powerful, sometimes the voices are faded - the only thoughts I can hear are one of the thoughts at that precise moment, or the most important thought or something..."

"Me too."

She looked up, her eyes searching his face for answers. "What?"

"It was a chamber," Draco told her, pushing a strand of his hair away from his forehead. "A chamber. She was lying there, limb and lifeless," he continued in a dead-prone voice that slowly became fatal in the process of speaking. "There was blood on her front. Her eyes were closed. I couldn't wake her up, and ..."

He paused, motioning in the air. He had to end his story right there. 

There was no point in bringing up _his_ 'power' as well.

"Chamber?" she breathed. "And...can you describe the girl?"

"I didn't see her very well, Weasley," he said snappishly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was more attracted to the fact that I felt as if my body was breaking when it happened."

"Chamber. The Chamber of Secrets, in my past," Ginny whispered.

He gave her a plausible look. "No...,no, it couldn't have been...I can't see the past or the future. I am not a Seer."

"Malfoy. Don't you think it's a bit ironic that at the same day, we both got visions? The same day that it rained...in _summer?_ It had to be the birth of stronger powers. I mean, when I was eight, I had dreams and visions as well, but never predictions or reading minds."

"Look, Weasley, I don't like talking about that day, alright?"

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

"None of your business. I have to go," Draco replied hastily, his features hardening slightly.

"Oh, so this is our new schedule, is it? First we get mad at each other, then we kiss each other, then you take off again like nothing's happened," Ginny said, flushing angrily.

"Seems like a great schedule to me," he sneered, turning away from her and proceeding to walk away.

"Hey! You dragged me in here, you know!" 

He kept on walking, but just as he reached the door, he paused.

"Well, aren't you going, Draco - oh sorry, I forgot we're not on first-name basis..."

Draco didn't seem to answer. He was paralyzed, amidst at something she could not see herself.

"Draco!" Ginny shrieked. 

His shoulders stiffened, his legs stumbling against each other. "Cassandra," he whispered, his eyes closed, envisioning something he couldn't see in this very room, his tone silky and soft, both hushed and sharp. "Will arrive."

***

The next morning was dull and weary. Ginny got up in the morning, forcing herself not to think about Draco, or Malfoy, whatever the hell he wanted her to call him, and dressed properly in her robes, dazed throughout classes. When Transfiguration time came, she was dreading it. To her shock, however, Draco was not there, and was not there for the whole class, in fact, and Ginny settled for sitting behind Harry in class, bored out of her mind, not paying attention. Her lack of concentration in class led her to stay for a few moments after the bell rang, until Harry waved his hand over her face, and she got up, blushing furiously.

When lunch time arrived, Ginny was grateful to go down to the Great Hall and relax, but unfortunately, Harry grabbed her arm while she was heading downstairs.

"What?" she snapped.

"I wanted to talk to you. Outside," he motioned, waving his hand dismissively.

She sighed in defeat. "Oh, alright." 

The grounds were beaming with sunlight, grazing with cool wind that brushed against their faces. Ginny settled cross-legged on the ground, turning her face upwards, enjoying the tingling sensation that the breeze provided her. Harry stood, pacing around her, shifting uncomfortably for several moments before she spoke.

"What is it?" she demanded. "Why are you ...acting this way?" she finished, gesturing notionally in the air.

"Nothing," Harry answered. "I just wanted to ask you if you went to Dumbledore yet. I wanted to wait for you in the common room in the morning, but Ron and Hermione would get suspicious, so I decided until later to ask. I didn't want to get them worried; I mean, half my fate is often based on dreams," he added, half-jokingly, but with a serious glint flashing through his eyes.

"Oh," Ginny replied, wrinkling her nose. "I am sorry, I forgot about Dumbledore. But..." 

"But?" Harry asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"I had another dream," she whispered tentatively. He fixated his gaze on her for several moments before speaking.

"I had a dream too," Harry said softly. 

"You did?"

Harry nodded, running a hand reluctantly through his raven-colored locks. His mouth seemed to be parted but no words were of yet willing to come out. Pacing around her in a circular motion once more, he took the edge of his thumb and placed it on her chin, tapping it thoughtfully. 

"I was kissing you. And then you asked me a question. And I said yes..." Harry started to say.

"What question?" Ginny asked, her eyes closed, her breath growing heavier as he leaned forward.

"If I loved you." Ginny gasped at his voice, but it was soon muffled as his lips touched hers once more. For various moments all thoughts went out of her mind as she drowned into his kiss, clutching his shoulders, her fingers around his robes. All control was flown away as he leaned forward, their bodies plastered together, his beads of sweat pouring against her own. And then, the kiss drifted it away as he released her, his hands slowly drawing away from the cling of her robes.

"And...?" Ginny ensued, waving her hand dismissively, but the red in her cheeks proved she was still flustered.

  
"Then...I became..." he trailed off, glancing at her expectantly until her face became light with realization. "Well, you know. Voldemort."

"Oh, oh..."

"And this mistress girl, her name was Minersa...she was a Veela, I think...I didn't notice. Anyways, he asked her if she did his bidding. She said no...and he ...he did something, stupefied her or something else, and she just fell on the floor...there was also something about Nagini...and then I woke up."

"With your scar burning?"

He nodded, then hesitantly, he leaned over. "And something else." Looking around nervously, he saw that students were out of sight, and pulled up the sleeve of his robe and shirt beneath it to reveal the glowering Dark Mark that was engraved upon his arm.

***

Ginny backed away swiftly, looking at it, an impression of repulsion over her face. "Put it away!" she hissed violently, looking around frantically before turning to him pointedly. All blood seemed to be drained out of her usually freckled face. Now her skin was colorless like pale white, her knees were threatening to buckle underneath her. The shining Dark Mark had caused her such an unsteady reaction that she was sure she would fall any moment now. The shock, the disbelief and the horror that filled her. For an instant she almost believed the Mark was there voluntarily, and that Harry had chosen a path none too light.

Harry obeyed, tugging the sleeve downwards.

Her breathing became hitched as she took sharp breaths to calm herself. "Where - where did - where - I - oh God, oh God," she whimpered, wringing her wrists in her hands nervously.

"After my first dream...I woke up with blood all over me...but Dumbledore said it's not _just_ the Dark Mark, it's the _first draft_ of the Dark Mark..." he notified her with a stern voice. 

"But how could that happen? It may have been a realistic dream, but it wasn't...real," Ginny finished lamely.

"I don't know, Ginny. It's obvious Voldemort can't get into the school, and I doubt there's a follower of his here..."

"Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Nagini."

"What?" Harry looked thoroughly confused.

"Look, I know this is the kind of thing Hermione usually explains, but you'll just have to settle for me. Nagini...he's a snake, right?"

"Right..."

"Well...do you know what kind of a snake he _is_, exactly?" she asked, looking at him frightfully.

"How would I know that?"

"Nagini might be one of those poisonous snakes...he could have the - the _tongue_," she whispered.

"The _tongue_?"

"Don't you ever pay attention in class?"

"No."

"Nagini might be a Swollener. They're very rare, only powerful wizards like Salazar or Voldemort could own them...with just their tongues, they can carve something, burn something into human skin, any soft surfaces..." 

"Are you saying..."

"Nagini is the one that gave you the Dark Mark."

***

It was a week later that Draco had the dream. After skipping all Transfiguration classes in all ways possible, he sent word to Professor McGonagall he was sick, and would be back. She seemed highly doubtful of this, but it was all he could do to avoid Ginny. He thought he could put everything behind him, get through his N.E.W.T.S. and remaining months of school (for he was highly ambitious of the upcoming March in two more days) and thought he had thrown his troubles away. Sadly, he was terribly wrong. That night, he fell asleep very quickly, and his world emitting into darkness.

__

He was going through many passages. Until he found the right one. His father stood in front of him, handing him his wand. "You'll be needing this," his father warned him stonily. Draco moved into the hollow cells, his heart racing against his ribcage. He remembered this greatly. He had been here before - it was the place Voldemort had taken refuge to. His heart pacing against his chest, he drew near to the familiar directions and stopped in front of the door, that was guarded by a strict-looking man who wore his Dark Mark proudly on his bare arm. His knees were skinned, and he was merely wearing short, thin robes, his head full of scars. 

He automatically gave Draco a vial full of the strongest truth potion. Draco drank it, feeling dizzy.

"What is your nature?"

"I am Lucius Malfoy's son," Draco said curtly.

"What is your nature?" the man repeated, not looking at him.

"To receive the Dark Mark and become one of the inner circle."

"Your father is in Azkaban, is he not?"

"He broke out. Two months ago."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"What is the password your father provided for you?"

"Thomas Marvalo Riddle."

"What is your full name?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"Enter."

With a swift push, the door was open, releasing a fume of black smoke that wavered throughout the air and hovered amongst the very room. Draco held back coughs as he entered.

"Ah, Draco."

Draco did not respond quickly enough, he merely recoiled from the hideous man in front of him. He could smell the man, he had such a foul smell, it smelled just like sin, just like evil. Draco could almost feel the stench coming from him, the piercing red eyes were now drilling a hole into his back, causing him such an intensifying motion that he almost passed out from the smell of the room, the smell of him, and the sight.

"Do you fear the face of your master?"

Draco held back a sigh, bowing as his father had told him to do, and hanging his head shamelessly. "No, my Lord."

"We have already been through the obstacles, Draco. You are well fit to become a Death Eater. Sit," he commanded, pointing to a chair. Draco obeyed without complaint, sitting, his legs and arms straight, holding up a good posture.

Voldemort gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh, no need to remind me how well behaved you are, Draco. Because as this happens, you'll be screaming for your life," he finished ruthlessly.

"Close your eyes."

He did it. He was a slave, a servant, anything that obeyed the Dark Lord.

He heard a hissing sound near him; some sort of saliva was going over his bare arm. He clenched his fists in fury as the pain began to come through him. The stinging, burning pain that felt as if a knife was carving into his skin. He only wanted it to be over...he could feel dripping blood all the way from his arm and into his fingertips...

Draco Malfoy opened his eyes, crying out loud as he looked around him frantically. Recalling the horrible day - the day that his sixteenth birthday had come, the day he had the Dark Mark carved over his arm, and had to suffer through the pains all year. And now he was seventeen - and yet he couldn't get using to the pain that was now electrifying him in every way possible. He pulled up his sleeve, and saw that his Dark Mark was glowing terribly.

A sudden vision came to his mind, and it felt as if something hard had struck him in his chest, for the images that flashed through his mind was of Ginny. Ginny smiling, Ginny frowning, Ginny crying...Ginny screaming in pain as she dug her fingernails into her palms and blood seeped out...

He lurched back, arching his way into bed, his eyes wide open. He never wanted to go back to sleep again.

***

__

"You've never been powerful, Ginny, admit it."

"No."

"I don't need you to admit it, Ginny. You're all mine, now. All mine," he mocked at her, his hand going through her red hair, tugging at her strands every so often, touching her freckled face.

"No..." she grew restless, weakness developing her in ways she'd never imagined. It felt as if blood had been taken out of her. She collapsed in the Chamber, with Tom's laugh echoing in her eardrums...

***

__

You know you want to go to it, a voice sang in his mind. See what's in there...go on, there's no harm...

Harry led his feet up to the Mirror of Erised, looking at it, expectantly. For a split second it seemed like a regular mirror - then, an image rose. But not the familiar image of his parents and other relatives waving to him.

This image was something else. Malfoy was dead on the floor, and he was standing before him, a joyous, sick expression on his face. Ginny was behind him, her small arms wrapped delicately around his waist, she was saying something to him, smiling, and they started to kiss...but the blood of Malfoy was still trailing across the floor...

***

The next day was what was horrible. Harry woke with a severe headache that cut across his skin and stroke his scar in a pricking pinch. He could remember the dream clearly, it was making him drowsy inside - he felt vaguely weakened, but he pushed the thoughts away. He need to see Ginny. He and her would go to Dumbledore...and everything would be fine. 

When he went downstairs to the common room, he was glad to see Ginny there, waiting for him. She gave him a small kiss on the lips before grabbing his arm, and they headed down the hallways.

"I don't know what the new password for his office is though..."

"Mr. Potter? Miss Weasley?" Professor McGonagall appeared in front of them. "What're you doing up, early?"

"We need to see the Headmaster, Professor," Ginny quipped.

Professor McGonagall looked gravely at them. "I am afraid...that is not possible."

A sudden deja vu of Harry's first year hit him as he tried to struggle for words. "Why not?" he managed.

She sighed. "I suppose the whole school's going to know anyways. Might as well let you know. He's in St. Mungo's."

***

"_St. Mungo's_?" Ginny exclaimed, horrified. "But...but, why?"

"There's been an attack. In his sleep. Nobody knows why, but he seems to be poisoned. Severus found him this morning, burn marks all across his chest and neck...it's awful, really...he'll be fully recovered by April, I hope. He has to be there for when the seventh years take N.E.W.T.S."

"But...but..."

"I must go, now. Must alert the students." She walked away with no other words.

"Oh, no," muttered Ginny. "Why did we wait to tell him? Now he's gone..."

"Burn marks..."

"What?" Ginny looked up at him, then realization took over her face. "Oh no...you don't think..."

"Nagini," Harry whispered, his face dreadfully final.

***

  
_"The blood of a Seer, born at eighth, strong at rainfall...the blood in which runs Cassandra..."_

"No!" Ginny was writhing, kicking, but he pulled her to him, and took the knife, slicing the skin right on her neck...

Draco woke up, glistening with sweat.

***

"Harry..." she protested.

He continued to unbutton her blouse slowly, kissing the flesh on her neck.

"You should go. It's almost midnight!" Ginny insisted. He pulled away, narrowing his eyes.

"Why? Are you having another visitor?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ginny shook her head, blinking. "No, of course not. You just need your sleep..."

"I don't _want_ to sleep, Ginny, don't you get it? Whenever I sleep...I dream horrible things...I can't take it anymore!"

"Harry," she breathed, gently prodding his cheek with her hand. "You need sleep, whether you like it or not. We need to figure this out before somebody gets killed."

"Alright," he relented reluctantly, pulling away from her. "Good night," he bid her.

"Good night."

After she made sure he left, she reached up and grasped her oval-shaped mirror, and began to brush her hair. The process began slow and mellow.

It was just a few moments after that she realized the face looking back at her wasn't hers. It was the woman - the woman from the dream. She screamed loudly, not sure if anybody heard her.

"YOU MUST NOT DESTROY IT. IT WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE AND MORE," roared the woman. It seemed as if the woman was making a ...prediction?

The mirror fell away from her hands, and into the floor, smashing in cracks.

"Ginny?" a girl called. "Are you okay?"

"I am fine," she called back, her heartbeat pacing forward as she picked up the mirror and looked back at it, but the woman was gone. It was her own reflection that was peering back at her. She put the mirror away, hiding it, and closed the drapes around her bed, not caring if she ever brushed her hair again.

At this time, midnight had struck. 

And March had began.

***


	12. Part XII

**          The Blood of A Virgin**

**                                        ----------------------------**

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.

Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?

***

"You've been avoiding me for the past weeks," Draco complained, walking beside her. His ankles hoodwinked together and threatened him to fall—he settled his hand on her shoulder to keep balance. She turned her head and gave him a strained frown, and he withdrew sharply like his breath. 

"Listen, Malfoy, whatever we 'had' is over. It's not like we're friends or anything like that," she noted reasonably.

"There's no need to avoid me, though. Even if you _are_ going out with 'Potter', now," he snarled bitterly.

"Harry's nice and sweet. In other words, he's nothing like you."

"Oh well, it doesn't matter, you have to tutor me on the 'Legged-Lock Transfiguration', remember? Professor McGonagall recommended it," Draco reminded her smugly.

"Only because you failed on purposely...why can't you stop bothering me, anyways? Don't tell me you've taken a 'liking' to me."

"Like I could ever like _you_, Weasley. I got what I wanted from you."

His cold words stung her like ice in her eyes, burning in aphrodisiacal steel that refused to be tainted in a poison to help cure it's cure. He smirked in satisfaction, turning around, his footsteps soon nothing but a hiss of pain still wrenching in her insides.

***

"Did Malfoy bother you?" Harry asked at lunch. 

Ginny smiled at him, clutching his face, adoring it from side to side. His fingers wrapped around hers, and they leaned over at each other—she tried to sink into the jade of his eyes but it seemed impossible to do so—if only they were silver. "Not at all. He was reminding me 'sweetly' that I have to help him with the Legged-Lock Transfiguration project tomorrow night."

"But, Ginny! Tomorrow's the fifteenth of March!" he complained, sipping his juice, his hand clutching hers across the table.

"So?"

"Don't you remember?" Hermione interrupted haughtily from afar of the table. "Classes are off tomorrow, because half of the staff is going away to go visit Dumbledore again. They say he's feeling a lot better, and he doesn't fall asleep anymore, so they're expecting him back next week. Only McGonagall's staying."

"That's great," Ginny said, sighing in relief, looking at Harry pointedly. He smiled wryly back at her.

"Yeah, it is, but I still wanted to spend the day with you...and night," he added suggestively, his eyes twinkling as Ron, who was sitting beside Hermione, spit his pumpkin juice out in a spurt of outrage.

She laughed, twisting his hand playfully, his fingers dense and cold and clammy in the heat of hers. She tried to rub warmth into it, but there seemed to be none. "Maybe some other time. Tomorrow, we'll be together, but at night I need to go to the library with Malfoy, alright?"

He mock-pouted, making her laugh again. "Alright."

They let go at last, Harry pondering what could've been a night to remember, and Ginny wondering if silver was better.

***

"Malfoy! You're not trying hard enough!" she complained, looking at the clock behind him, which read around nine o'clock. 

"I _am_ trying hard enough!" he insisted, making a feeble attempt to do the charm again, but only a flash of white came out, but nothing happened to the parchment in front of him.

"Just think of it - think it's already transfigured and..." Ginny stopped, a look of wonderment coming over her face.

"What is it?" Draco said, glancing at her worriedly.

"Your...arm...it's bleeding..." She pulled her fingers to her lips and let out a soft, unwanted gasp escaping from her lips. 

"Shit!" Draco took one look at his shirt sleeve only to see that blood had stained through it, and inconsiderable stings were now forcing him to clutch it as hard as he could to deafen how weak it was making him.

"I have to go," he said hurriedly. "I..." he tried to pick up his books, but they fell, and he fell with them, yelling aloud.  The pain seemed unbearable to deny—a drowning, stinging purist of hope died along with him. The almost-vacant library grew still in motion, the only seventh years gazing at them in disgust.

"Draco!" Ginny leaned forward, pulling him up by his upper arms, so that he leaned against her sideways. Trying to hold him and their books at the same time, she caught an arm around his waist, and put all their books into her bag, carrying it over her shoulder. It was quite a hasty entrance they made as they went down to the dungeons and in front of the painting in front of the Slytherin Common Rooms, and he barely managed to mutter the password when he collapsed in her arms again, and she had to drag him inside. Luckily, only a few first-year Slytherins were by the fireplace, steaming their hands to rid of any cold that remained in their skin, and they looked at her in wonderment, but said absolutely nothing as she dragged him to the front of the door of the Prefect dorm.

She set him down gently on the floor, and reached for her wand inside her robes, pointing at him. "_Ennervate__!"_

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, he fluttered his eyes open, crying in pain. "What?" he asked annoyed, looking upwards at her.

"I need the password," she said desperately. 

"Katherine Giller," he whispered, as if those words were a blur of a memory he had seemed to forgotten after he had been drenched, wrenched and soaked in poison that was disguised as pain. . She repeated them to the small painting, and sighed as it opened, an emotion undistinguishable mingled with fear plunging in her insides.. With much difficulty, she hauled Draco into his bed, and started to unbutton his shirt one by one in an uptake of her fingers.

"Look, Weasley, I appreciate you wanting to have sex with me, but this isn't the time," he drawled, obviously dazed and puzzled.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" she seethed. "Unless you want to bleed to death, let me help you, for once! That's what Gryffindors are for!"

He fell silent until she began to edge the sleeves of his upper-arm. Then, he grabbed her arm as if in warning, and she stopped in mid-air, her fingers failing to decide whether or not she should continue the sustainable process of touching the vain skin and gazing into the silver gray of his eyes and the black, dark holes of his pupils, which, Ginny thought, right then, looked as if they were wet and being leathered in many, many bare roots of trees in the winter. 

"There's something you should know..." he peeled the shirt off of him, in such a slow, territorial sense that her gasp flew like a wing hovering from an angel.

"Be quiet, Weasley!" he hissed violently, his hand over her sweet, pink-flush but otherwise slightly chapped mouth. "Do you want to attract attention?"

He let go off his hand hesitantly - her lips felt so soft against his skin - and she looked at the Dark Mark.

"Your - your a Death Eater?" 

"Yes, but only by force."

"I. can't believe this."

"Look...just please...do something about the bleeding, alright?" he moaned. "It hurts like hell."

"I guess it does," Ginny confirmed, and vanished into his bathroom before coming back with a small, handwashing towel, and placing it firmly on his bleeding arm. It was obvious that she had drenched it with cold water, and she was now tying it around his wound, working silently and productively as she did.

"That's all I can do for now," she said quietly, her eyes boring into his.

_You must bed her at the Sixteenth. You must bed her at the Sixteenth of the Third Month..._

"There's much more you can do," he offered, pulling her to him. Her eyes widened as he placed her lips over his.

***

_Your master is calling you, your master is calling you..._

_Harry jerked back and forth in his sleep, the words striking him in his eardrums. He felt as if he was dying in a very peaceful but hazardrous way - it was so confusing..._

_Touch it...touch it..._

Harry clutched his arms around himself, as he woke, shirtless. The pain was groping his arm, and it was bleeding all over, from his fingertips to his chest.

He grasped the Dark Mark, the blood pouring all through his flesh.

***

It was hard...he was pressing against her so fiercely, thoughts that ran into her mind shocked her...

_You can't destroy it.  You can't destroy it. It'll save your life. And more._

She let go quickly, aiming a well smack to his cheek. It sprung the itching sensation all through the side of his face.

"What'd you do that for?"

"How dare you! You know I am - I am in love with Harry." She took the back of her hand and wiped away the creases from her lips.

"If you're so in love with him, why didn't you just ditch me in the library and go to your lover-boy, then?" he asked, his eyes glittering in furious anger.

"Because I am not like you! No matter whom you are, Malfoy, no matter _what you are, even. I am a Gryffindor, and I don't just walk away from things like that," she embellished, enraged with herself and him._

There was a silence that wavered now, and Ginny had her back to him, her arms folded protectively against her chest.

Ginny was the first one to speak. "Who's Katherine, anyways?"

"My ex-girlfriend," he said his voice dead-prone. "Her family and mine used to be friends. She used to go to this school until...until she transferred."

"Why did she transfer?"

He chuckled coldly. "Because I raped her."

"Wh-wh-what?" Ginny felt a shriveled, growing shock stab deep within her. 

"Are you deaf as well, Weasley? Haven't you figured it out yet? I am obsessed."

"Obsessed with what?" Ginny pried, trying to be cautious.

He wanted to kick her and tell her to go away; but there was something in her voice that seemed to make it alright to tell her - it was waiting to get out somehow. 

"Obsessed with you. Obsessed with Katherine, many other people like you..."

"Like _me_?" Ginny emphasized, sounding scandalized. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Malfoy?"

His eyes closed. "With virgins."

"V-virgins."

"Yes."

Her mouth parted in a gaping circle as she turned around, facing him. "Is that why...is that why the first time I came into Transfiguration you said..."

"Yes."

She backed away from him.

"Go ahead," he said, his eyes still closed. "Run away from me, you'll be unscathed. Everybody always runs away. Like I am some kind of freak or something. It's not true. It's impossible to be not like this whenever I can...but I can't be. Go ahead. Call me sick and run out of here, Weasley. That's what most girls would do."

"I - I am not like most girls," Ginny answered, a defense mechanisms clear in her voice.

"That's true. But it doesn't matter anymore. It's probably midnight anyways..."

"I'll stay for a moment."

He opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow. Without a word, he took the blood-stained towel off of his arm, shaking as he stood, and walked to the bathroom, and she could hear the sink water turning on. For moments she closed her eyes, all problems, all dreams, visions, predictions and everything floating out of her mind. If only life could be peaceful; if only she could have quiet...

She heard a yell come from the bathroom. Ginny Weasley stood up, panic rising in her skin, like a perfume leaving it's fragrance and dabbing it with oil and water to brush off anything that was sufficing. Draco hurried from the bathroom, leaning against the wall.

"Draco? Draco?"

His eyes were closed, and he was clutching his arm in pain, his whimpers gentle but recogonizable to be perceived as nothing less than nothing at all.

"Draco!"

She walked toward him, and then stopped in an abrupt halting that made her grow dizzy of smell and every flaw wrong with everything  Vomit was a petty, petty but pretty thing to taste at the moment.

A deja vu. When had this happened before?

_The first dream. The dream. The dream where you slept with him and..._

"What dream?" Draco asked, and Ginny remembered he could read her thoughts. She cautiously drew closer to him, and he reached for her hand -

As soon as he groped it, she whispered in realization, "It's midnight. The sixteenth..."

The words barely left her lips before she and Draco were twisting away into sprinkles of colors, leaving Hogwarts in a blinding, red light.

***


End file.
